Can You Keep a Secret?
by QuoteIt
Summary: Everyone has their secrets...some may be big, while others are small. Some have the power to change lives, and the rest change nothing. One thing all secrets have in common: they never stay secret forever. CHARLOE
1. Charlie's Secret

**Author's Note** this has just been floating around in my head for a while, and I'm finally going to get it out. I don't own any part of Revolution.

Charlie's Secret

The war with the Patriots has been over for nearly two months, though a few groups still lingered here and there. The Mathesons, along with Monroe, Connor, and Gene, had settled in Willoughby, trying to form some sort of normal Blackout life. Charlie was staying with her mom, Miles, and Gene while Monroe moved into the house across the street. Connor had decided that he didn't want to stay in the same house as his dad, instead staying in the house next door so he wouldn't be too far.

For the fourth time that week, Charlie woke up and barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up. She heaved until her stomach and throat burned and there was a rancid taste in her mouth. She wearily pressed her forehead against the countertop with a sigh, only to jerk up, startled, by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind her.

"Charlie?" Gene looked down at his granddaughter, who was still leaning against the counter, beads of sweat visible from her recent purging. "Is there something you'd like to talk about?"

Charlie looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise. "Grandpa, no, I think I'll be fine." Her eyes darted around, betraying her nervousness.

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Because this isn't the first time you've thrown up, then felt fine for the rest of the day, and you've been sleeping an awful lot."

He watched as her shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. "Do you really think that's what it is?" she nearly whispered, almost sheepishly.

Gene heaved a sigh and nodded. "From what I'm seeing, it looks like the early stages of pregnancy."

Charlie made a barely audible whimpering noise. "That's what I thought."

They stood there for a moment in silence before Gene finally said, "Who's the father?"

"A friend." She looked him directly in the eye, unyielding, even as he raised his eyebrows, waiting for a name.

Gene rolled his eyes as it became apparent she wasn't going to say more. "Fine. What are you going to tell Miles and your mom when they get back?"

Charlie slid to the ground, closing her eyes with a groan. Miles and Rachel had been gone for nearly two weeks on a trip to Austin with Bass, and they weren't due back for another few days.

"I don't know," she murmured. She suddenly trained her fiery blue eyes on him. "I want to be the one to tell them."

"Charlie," he immediately protested, "they need to know."

"Grandpa, please," Charlie implored. Then she paused, and smirked triumphantly. "What about that whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing? You can't tell them if I don't want you to."

Gene scowled at her, realizing she had him beat. "Alright, but you have to take care of yourself, and we'll have check-ups every week."

She raised an eyebrow at that. "Every week, for the next nine months?"

"Yes ma'am." If she wanted to play the whole Pre-Blackout doctor rules game on him, he wasn't about to just let her get away with it.

He smiled at her frustrated noise before turning and calling over his shoulder, "Come down to eat. You need to eat well and stay hydrated."

Later that evening, Charlie was sitting at the bar with Connor for dinner. They had become friends over the last few months, and made it a habit to have dinner together at least once a week.

"Hey, Charlie," Connor called over with a grin as she walked in, and held up a bottle of whiskey.

She smiled back at him, suddenly nervous. She had completely forgotten about her inability to drink, and hadn't come up with an excuse for when people wondered why she wasn't drinking anything.

"I think I'll just stick with water tonight," she said as he made a move to pour her a glass.

Connor's eyebrows shot up under his unruly curls as he set the bottle down. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Charlie Matheson?"

She gave a small laugh at that but didn't say anything.

He frowned slightly. "What's up?"

"It's nothing," she lied, shaking her head. "I just haven't been feeling all that great the past few days, and my grandpa said I should stick with water for a few days."

"Well as long as you don't get me sick," he replied with a smirk and slight shrug. "That wouldn't help my game at all."

Charlie threw back her head and laughed at that. "God forbid that ever happens," she said, still chuckling.

They spent the rest of the night laughing and talking about their weeks as Charlie sipped her water, the small issue forgotten.

Miles, Rachel, and Bass came home three days later and immediately called for Connor and Charlie to join them in the Matheson's living room.

"So," Miles began, "Blanchard's deciding that he needs the rest of the Patriots mopped up." He pulled a folded map out from his pocket and tossed it to Charlie, who unfolded it to see a map of Texas with red dots on it. She surveyed it for a moment before handing it to Connor, looking back up at Miles.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess here and say that he wants us to take care of them," Charlie deadpanned.

"Bingo," Bass said, smirking. "Blanchard gave me and Miles twenty guys, and we get to choose our captains." He gestured to Connor and Charlie. "You two."

Connor grinned up at his dad and opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by Charlie standing suddenly. "Sounds great, but I think I'm going to get some rest. It's been a long day." She glanced at her grandfather before turning and going upstairs.

Bass, Miles, and Rachel all frowned at her unusual behavior. "What's going on with Charlie?" Rachel asked, looking at her dad.

"She said the other day that she hadn't been feeling to great," Connor interjected with a shrug. "Probably still recovering."

Rachel looked to her father for confirmation, and Gene nodded quickly. "Nothing too serious," he reassured. "I just don't want her to mess up her stomach again."

Rachel seemed to be placated for the moment, but Bass and Miles looked unconvinced. They glanced at each other, having one of their silent conversations before Bass let out a small sigh and nod, accepting the fact that Miles would probably have a better chance at talking to Charlie alone.

Miles quietly moved up the stairs while Bass distracted Rachel, Connor, and Gene. He approached Charlie's door cautiously, not sure what to do. He had known Charlie for over two years now, and had lived with her in close spaces for almost the entirety of that time, and she had never once gotten sick. Hell, he'd seen that girl down bottles of whiskey without a problem. "Sick" and "Charlie" just didn't go together.

"Charlie?" He waited, but after a moment with no response he softly pushed the door open to see Charlie curled up on her bed with her back towards him. He studied her for a moment, his concern growing.

"Charlie," he repeated, firmer this time. "I know you're faking it."

He waited another moment before Charlie turned to face him, and he was surprised at the weariness he saw in her eyes.

"Hey, kid," he whispered, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. "What's up with you."

She studied him for a moment before saying, "I just haven't been to well lately, Miles."

He frowned at the half-truth, knowing she was leaving something out, which wasn't like her at all.

"Why lie to me, Charlie?" he asked. "You and I both know that I can read you better than anyone else."

She sighed and rested her forehead against the outside of his thigh, finding comfort in the mixture of smells of whiskey, sweat, and the outdoors that was so Miles.

When she didn't respond, he knew pressing her for more answers wasn't going to do any good. She was without a doubt the most stubborn creature to ever grace this planet, and would always be.

He scowled in defeat, but leaned down and pressed his lips against her temple before murmuring, "Get some rest, kid."

He barely heard her soft, "Night, Miles," as he walked out, closing the door behind him.

He went downstairs to see Bass sitting on the couch alone with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey in front of him.

"Gene and Rachel went out, something about getting more supplies," Bass said, answering Miles's unasked question. "And Connor went to the bar, trying to find some girl."

Miles snorted as he sat next to his brother. "He is just like you when you were that age."

Bass rolled his eyes as he handed Miles a glass, but didn't say anything. Finally, he said, "How is she?"

Miles let out a huff, but Bass could easily see the worry lining his best friend's face. "I don't know. She doesn't seem sick, just…tired. And different." He shook his head and downed his glass, holding it out for Bass to refill. "I just hope she isn't going through what we did, Bass."

Bass's eyes darkened as he remembered how they had been after they came home from war, suddenly unable to find things funny in everyday life, struggling to forget their dead. He shuddered and drank quickly, catching himself silently praying that Charlie, their beacon of light and moral compass, wasn't going through that now.

"Well, in a few days, she won't be out of our sight. We'll make sure nothing happens to her." Miles looked up, meeting Bass's intense blue eyes as he continued. "We'll make sure she doesn't turn out like we did."

"I just don't know how to stop it," Miles whispered, feeling his shoulders slump in defeat while, at the same time he felt lighter for having shared this with Bass, the hopelessness he felt when he knew his niece needed him, but had no idea how to help her.

"I don't know either, brother," Bass replied, just as quiet.

The two men sat in silence, whiskey in hand as they were consumed by thoughts of a time so long ago, when things had been simpler, with their little blonde, blue eyed princess in the backyard of the Matheson home.

The next few days passed, and both Miles and Bass had seen little of Charlie as they got to know their men.

It was the night before they were supposed to leave, and Miles, Bass, Connor, and their men were out at the bar, celebrating. Charlie was supposed to be there too, but she had yet to make an appearance.

Miles was in the middle of telling a story to Connor about him and Bass in the Marines, when he felt Bass jab him sharply in the ribs with his elbow.

"Bass, what the hell," he complained. He glanced at him, realizing he wasn't looking at him and quickly following his gaze to see what had caught his attention.

"Charlie," he murmured, watching her cross the room. He frowned as he watched her make her way across the bar, moving as gracefully as always but now without her usual air of confidence. Her head was down, and her shoulders had a slight slump to them that Miles found worrying.

He looked at Bass as she drew near and could tell that Bass had noticed, too, judging by how tight he was clenching his jaw.

"Miles," Charlie greeted him quietly, finally lifting her head to meet his eyes as she drew close. She glanced at the Monroe men briefly before focusing back in on her uncle. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," he replied, confused. "Shoot."

Charlie looked around warily. "Not here. How about we go outside?"

Miles glanced over, noticing Bass's deep frown. Something wasn't right, and they both knew it.

"Alright, kid," he grumbled in agreement.

They strolled outside, stopping a few feet away from the bar when Charlie turned to face him.

"I can't go."

"What?" Miles stared at her for a moment, perplexed.

"I can't come with you on the mission." Charlie looked down again, unable to meet his eyes as she nervously twisted her fingers together.

"Why the hell not, Charlie?" He felt his concern growing, now interlaced with a slight fear. Maybe she's doing worse than they had realized, Miles thought, on the verge of a panic.

"I haven't been doing that great lately, Miles," Charlie said quietly, still refusing to meet his gaze. "Grandpa and I talked, and he said that it would be best if I didn't go."

Miles stared at her for a moment before taking a deep breath and putting his hands on her shoulders. "Charlie," he said, quiet but firm as he waited for her to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry."

He watched as her expression changed from nervous to confused. "What are you sorry for?"

"I'm sorry we brought you into this war, and I'm sorry for not spending more time with you after it was over." He felt a lump rise in his throat and swallowed it back down, now suddenly unable to look her in the eye. "Hell, I remember how hard it was for Bass and me when we came home, and we had all of the required therapy shit."

Charlie finally realized what he was saying. He thought she couldn't go because she was going through something like PTSD, totally unaware of the real cause, and she hated watching him blame himself for something that wasn't even happening.

"Miles," she said quietly, reaching out to lightly place a hand on his arm. "That's not what this is about." He looked up at her, his face masked with a mixture of relief and apprehension.

"Then why can't you come with us, Charlie?"

She looked away, opening her mouth to answer yet no sound came out. Charlie found herself floundering for something to say, but unable to lie under Miles's look.

"I'mpregnant," she mumbled quickly under her breath.

"What?" Miles frowned, eyebrows furrowed as he leaned in to hear her.

Charlie looked up at him, blue eyes intently on his as she found the strength to say clearly, "I'm pregnant."

Miles took a step back, his jaw opening as his eyes widened in shock. He stared at her for a few minutes before finally strangling out, "Who?"

She closed her eyes briefly and braced herself as she said, "Bass."

At the silence that greeted her, she opened her eyes to see Miles practically shaking with rage.

"That son of a bitch," he seethed. "Did he force you?"

"No," she said quickly. "Of course not."

"Then how in the hell did that happen, Charlie?"

She glanced around nervously as his voice became louder, but thankfully the only people out and about were either drunk or didn't want to get involved.

"The victory party," she said quietly.

His eyes popped wide. "Two months ago?" he managed to get out. "You're nearly two months pregnant?" He waited for her confirming nod before daring to ask, "You sure it's his?"

She nodded again. "Haven't been with anyone else in the past three months," she said. "Only that one time."

Miles sighed in defeat. "Who knows about this?"

"Just Grandpa," she replied, pausing before adding, "and now you."

"When exactly are you planning on telling your mom? And what about Bass?" He watched her carefully, trying to gauge her thoughts.

"I'm going to have to tell Mom about being pregnant, of course," she said, her hands hovering around her abdomen. "But I was thinking of waiting until you got back to tell him."

Miles grimaced, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I think you're making a mistake, waiting so long," he said. "Bass is serious about family, you know that."

She gave a short nod. "I know. I just," she hesitated briefly before continuing, "I just don't want to bring this up and try to deal with all of the questions, then have him leave before we figure things out, you know?"

Miles rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair as he surveyed Charlie's determined expression. He was no fool, and he knew that Charlie and Bass had gotten closer, especially during the war when they were often partners while he was with Rachel. "It's your call, Charlie."

Charlie nodded in thanks. "I should be going home," she said, flashing a shy smile. "Grandpa's getting all crazy."

Miles snorted at that. "Just wait a few months, and for Rachel to find out." He looked down at his niece, who had walked into his bar in Chicago so young and naïve, filled with so much hope for a world that was long gone. She had transformed into a strong, beautiful, and loyal fighter, and was easily the most precious person in his life.

Charlie turned to leave, but Miles suddenly grabbed her arm and spun her back into his chest, holding her tight. "Take care of yourself, kid," he whispered against her temple.

Charlie burrowed her face in his chest and breathed him in. "I will."

He gently placed a kiss at her temple and murmured a broken, "Love you," before turning and hurrying back into the bar, clearly uncomfortable with the emotional moment.

Charlie grinned as she called out to his retreating back, "Love you too, Miles!"

Bass glanced up from his whiskey as he noticed Miles's approach. "What's up?"

Miles sat down heavily next to him and reached for the bottle. "Charlie can't come." He grabbed a glass before deciding he would need more than that and took a swig straight from the bottle.

He glanced up just in time to catch a glimpse of what almost looked like disappointment flash across Bass's face before he recovered. "What do you mean she can't come?"

Miles hesitated, unsure of what to say. "She needs to stay close to Gene," he finally decided on.

Bass stared at him for a few moments. "That's it?"

Miles shrugged helplessly, taking another drink. "I don't know what to tell you, Bass," he said truthfully.

Bass sat there, sullen and silent, before grabbing the bottle out of Miles's hand and taking a long drink. As he handed it back, a bosomy blonde sauntered up to their table, her sights clearly set on Monroe. She reached out a hand to lay on his arm, but before she made contact he looked up at her and growled, "Not interested, lady."

Miles watched the woman sulk off and was struck by the sudden realization that he hadn't seen Bass with a woman in months. He eyed his friend now, noticing how Bass had become glum, clearly focused on getting drunk as he finished off the whiskey.

Well, Miles thought, maybe there's something more to this after all.

 **Author's Note** wow this is already way longer than anything I've done before, and it's only the first chapter! I'm not sure how many there will be, but please review below :)


	2. Two to Lose

**Author's Note:** _Wow, thank you so much for the overwhelming amount of positive reviews! Sorry for the late update, but I've been swamped with homework and have been a bit under the weather. I'm hoping that I'll update once or twice per week until this is done (I don't know how many yet). Okay, I'll shut up now. Enjoy!_

…

They had only been gone a week, but Charlie was already going out of her mind.

Her grandfather had become so overbearing that Charlie felt stifled in their home, as he constantly pestered her with questions and instructions and _Charlie have you eaten this yet_ or _Charlie this might help_ or _Charlie where the hell have you been you should be resting_. For God's sake, she was pregnant, not dying.

It didn't help that Gene's behavior was making Rachel suspicious. While Gene had always loved his granddaughter, he never coddled her or treated her like a child. Several times now, Rachel had walked in while Gene was insisting that a pissed off Charlie does or does not do something, only to clam up and leave as soon as he caught sight of his daughter lurking in the doorway.

Finally, Rachel couldn't stand the secretive glances Charlie and Gene shared while she was in the room any longer, and cornered her dad one evening while Charlie was out at the market.

"Dad, what the hell is going on?" She watched as Gene glanced up at the sound of her demanding voice, surprised and a bit nervous to see her.

"What do you mean?" he asked warily.

"With Charlie. You've been acting strangely. Is there something wrong with her?" Rachel stood in the doorway as she was suddenly mentally bombarded with worst-case scenarios. She couldn't lose her. Not her, too. Struggling to avoid a panic attack, she closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath.

Gene felt his heart break just a bit as he watched his daughter struggle to remain sane. "Rachel, she's fine," he said soothingly, holding his hands out in front of him as if calming a wild animal. "She's just been going through a few things, and we've been talking since she decided to stay home." Not a complete lie, but not the whole truth either.

Rachel watched him, unconvinced. Her dad had always been a terrible liar, but sometimes the lies were easier to just accept than hearing the truth, so she nodded and turned to leave.

When Charlie returned home from the market, her grandfather pulled her into his office.

"Charlie, you need to tell your mother," he said immediately.

Charlie's eyes widened in shock. "What? No, not yet."

"Charlie," he practically begged, "she already knows something is wrong, you need to tell her the truth. You can't let her keep thinking that there's something terrible going on with you."

She grimaced, knowing his was right and hating every moment of it. "How do I tell her? Just go up to her and say, 'Oh yeah, by the way, I'm pregnant and I'm not telling who the father is?'"

"Charlie?"

Charlie whipped around at the sound of her mother's gasp to face Rachel's stunned, chalk-white face.

 _Shit_.

…

They had only been gone one week, but Bass was already going out of his mind.

He had been looking forward to this trip ever since Blanchard had told them his plans. He would get to spend more time with Miles, Connor….and Charlie.

Over the course of the war, he and Charlie had become partners and eventually, friends. They trusted each other to watch their back, and he had been eager to get back to their easy camaraderie. He truly enjoyed whatever time they spent together, with her brutally honest tongue and forgiving heart.

Recently, he couldn't seem to stop thinking about her. Ever since that night together, when they had too much to drink and felt so good after making it out of the war alive, he couldn't focus on any other woman.

As he had every night since they left, Bass sat in his tent on his bed roll, bottle in hand as he drank himself to sleep.

He was getting closer when Connor slipped in and took a seat next to him. "Hey, old man." Connor looked at him, hand outstretched.

Bass stared at him for a minute, trying to decide if he wanted to share his bottle or tell Connor to fuck off, before finally handing it over.

Connor took a swig before handing it back. "You've been pretty mopey these past few days," he commented.

Bass shrugged, not really knowing what to say, and took another drink instead.

The silence stretched between them before Connor spoke again. "Is it because Charlie isn't here?"

Bass choked on his whiskey. "What?" he finally managed to get out after his coughing fit passed.

Connor glanced at him. "Does she know?"

"Know what?"

"How you feel about her."

Bass looked back at him, confused.

Connor's eyes widened in surprise. "Do _you_ know how you feel about her?"

Bass looked away from him. "What makes you think I have feelings for her? She's a kid, and Miles's niece."

Connor snorted. "Please. When has something being Miles's ever stopped you?" Connor gestured to himself.

Bass opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again without saying anything.

Rolling his eyes, he continued, "You've been all pissy ever since we found out Charlie can't come. Considering you still have your brother and son here with you, there must be something more to Charlie than 'just friends' for you to act like this."

Bass shifted uncomfortably. "It's not like that," he denied weakly. "We are just friends, and that's all we'll ever be." He raised the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back, draining it.

Connor stood with a sigh. His dad was too drunk to have a decent conversation with, but he knew what he saw. Bass felt something for Charlie, whether he admitted it or not.

…

" _Charlie_?"

Charlie stood there, uncertain as she stared at her mother.

No one spoke for a minute until Rachel finally burst out, "You're pregnant?"

She shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do. "I….yeah."

Charlie watched in surprise as her mother's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, _Charlie_!" She rushed forward, throwing her arms around her stunned daughter. "That's wonderful!"

"It…it is?"

"Of course!" Rachel pulled back, tears running down her cheeks. "I get to be a grandma!"

Charlie couldn't help but laugh at her mother's glee. "You aren't mad?"

Now Rachel looked confused. "Mad? Why would I be mad?"

She shrugged, looking away.

Rachel's smile suddenly faded and her eyes hardened as she set her hands on her hips. She looked her daughter up and down before asking bluntly, "Who's the father?"

"A friend," Charlie replied immediately. Like hell she'd tell her mother it was Bass's. She wouldn't put it past her to hurt the baby just because it was his.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "That's it?" she finally said when it became obvious Charlie wasn't saying more. Rachel looked to her father for answers, but he merely shook his head with a shrug.

Huffing out a sigh, Rachel turned back to Charlie, a grin reappearing on her face. "We need to set up a nursey!" She clapped her hands excitedly. "Come on, Charlie. We have so much to buy!"

Charlie could only gape, speechless, before finally following her mother.

 _What the hell had just happened?_

…

The next night, Connor decided to try talking to his dad again. Only this time, before he began drinking.

Connor and Charlie had become good friends since the war had ended, and Connor had been keeping a close eye on her for the past few months. He had watched, during the war, as she fought back to back with his father, as they patched each other up after a rough day, and how they would sit together, passing a bottle between them. He had also watched that night at the victory party as they had drifted closer and closer, dancing and drinking until they left together.

He had also noticed how Charlie had stopped even pretending to be interested in the flirty guys at the bar who wanted to buy her a drink, and how his dad had been brushing off any female who seemed even remotely interested in him since then.

Connor wasn't stupid; he knew that something was kindling between them, but those two were completely oblivious. They may be great fighters and skilled strategists, but they couldn't communicate their feelings to save their life.

"Hey dad." Connor pushed into Bass's tent to see him just cracking open the bottle. Perfect.

"Connor." Bass nodded at him.

Connor hesitated for a minute, unsure of how to approach the subject before blurting out, "I know how you feel about Charlie."

Bass stared at him for a moment, shock flickering across his face before he schooled his expression into one of careful confusion. "What do you mean?"

Connor ran a hand through his unruly curls. "Why else would you be drinking so much each night?" he asked, gesturing towards the bottle Bass held. "You haven't done that it a long time, and the only thing that's changed is that Charlie isn't here."

Bass scowled, looking down at the whiskey.

"And you've been a pain in the ass ever since we left," Connor continued. "You also haven't been with any woman in two months."

Bass froze, blue eyes shooting up to meet his son's brown ones.

"Yeah, I know you slept with Charlie after the party," Connor admitted. "So why haven't you done anything about it?"

Bass stared at him before sighing in defeat, his mask dropping to reveal his tired, crestfallen expression. "It doesn't matter what I feel, Connor," he said quietly. "Charlie doesn't feel that way for me, and I'm not going to push her. I'm just grateful she's been able to forgive me." He dropped his head, closing his eyes. "You wanna know when I stopped drinking myself to sleep? After she had admitted to me one night that she didn't blame me anymore for the deaths of Ben and Danny. She told me that she didn't hate me, couldn't, after the times I saved her life." Bass opened his eyes, and Connor was surprised to see them filled with tears. "I don't want to lose her, Connor, and if I try to turn our friendship into something more, I will."

Connor cleared his throat before saying quietly, "I think you're wrong."

His father stared up at him sadly. "But is it really worth the risk?" He took a drink from the bottle he still clutched.

Connor watched his father working his way into sleep, floored by his confession. Now, he didn't know what to do. What if Charlie actually didn't reciprocate Bass's feelings? Connor didn't want to have to live his life knowing that he ruined his father's relationship with the one woman who had the power to change him for the better just because he had misread her emotions. Grimacing, Connor turned to leave.

…

 **Five months later**

Bass, Miles, Connor, and their men were gradually wiping out the last of the Patriots in Texas, working their way up from the lowest ranking Patriots. Now all they had left were two Patriot generals, who were supposedly camped at a site that was only about a two weeks' ride to Willoughby.

Connor hadn't approached Bass about Charlie in five months, ever since his surprising, heartfelt confession. Sure, Connor had known that Bass felt something for Charlie, but he wasn't expecting _that_.

But it was weird, too, because he was pretty sure that Miles knew, but he hadn't castrated Bass yet. On several occasions, Connor had seen Miles in bars with his father, sending away women who were clearly interested in Bass without him noticing.

As soon as these two Patriot generals were taken care of, they could go home. As they prepared for what they hoped would be their last battle for a long while, Connor made a silent promise: when they got back, he was going to show him that some things were worth the risk.

…

Miles and Bass crouched in the bushes behind a building, surveying the area. The plan was simple: eliminate the two men on their way to work. They had watched the area for days, and saw that the two Patriots always walked the same route to work, together, off of the main streets, passing by this secluded area every time.

Miles and Bass had been in that bush for over an hour, and they had men strolling around the main streets as backup, while Connor had the rest of them on watch in case everything went to hell.

Bass wished he had a bottle with him. Sitting there, waiting for those bastards to show up was leaving him way too much time to think, and his thoughts always seemed to turn back to Charlie.

Bass wasn't stupid, he knew he was in some deep shit when it came to her, but he couldn't help it. When he's around her, everything feels…good. Lighter, easier. Her presence made the voices in his head quiet, and gave him hope for the first time in so long. And when she smiles at him…

It struck him stupid every time.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by Miles's sharp jab to his ribs.

"Someone's coming," Miles whispered.

Bass tilted his head and listened. Footsteps sounded, coming from the left. He palmed his sword, getting ready to spring, when he froze.

He heard not two sets of feet, but three.

He shot a look at Miles, the look he gave back confirming that he noticed, too, but it wasn't a big deal. They could take down three men.

Feeling uneasy, Bass sat back and listened again, closing his eyes briefly before they flew open again.

"Miles," he hissed, gripping his friend's shoulder. "There's more coming from the right."

Sure enough, several more footsteps could be heard coming from the opposite direction.

"It sounds like three or four more," Miles murmured.

"I want to involve as few civilians as possible," Bass murmured back. "But in all the hours we watched this area, we didn't see anyone else walk this path."

Miles grimaced and started looking around, trying to find the men they had stationed for backup as the footsteps got closer. "Dammit," he growled. "Where are they?"

Bass grinned fiercely at Miles. "Don't worry, brother. We've gotten out of worse."

Miles couldn't help but smirk back. "Count of three?"

Bass nodded. "1…"

The footsteps were almost upon them, and voices sounded from the path next to the building behind them.

"3!"

The boys burst out of the bush, only to find themselves surrounded by men, pistols up and trained on them.

"Well, well…" a man drawled as he sauntered into the ring. "After all of the stories that have been told about the great Matheson and Monroe, I can't believe you were actually stupid enough to fall for that."

Bass bared his teeth at the man, whom he recognized as one of the generals.

"Name's Krasp. Paul Lee Krasp, former general of the Patriot army," he continued conversationally. "Did you really think we hadn't noticed your little eyes watching us for days? It's a good thing that we sent someone to go poke them out."

Bass froze. _Connor_.

"And your guard dogs wandering around were rather irksome." He gave them a cold smile. "It was time for us to put them down."

Miles and Bass shared a look. They were on their own, up against a dozen armed men who had them surrounded. As Krasp continued to talk, Miles nodded almost imperceptibly.

Bass whirled, slashing out with his sword, and –

Everything went black.

…

Charlie's back ached, her breasts hurt, and her stomach itched.

But she couldn't be happier.

Her mother often commented on how she glowed, and constantly seemed to be bringing home new things for Charlie, fully embracing the role of grandma. While she thought it was sweet, as time went on Charlie found herself wanting to pull out her hair more and more.

Everything was going well, except for the one, nagging worry in the back of her mind.

Bass.

He was probably going to be pissed when he found out. He might even leave Willoughby and never look back, but Charlie wasn't afraid of that. No, she was afraid he would stay, and want to be a part of their lives.

Ever since their night, Charlie couldn't seem to stop thinking about him. He haunted her in her spare time, which she unfortunately had a lot of nowadays, and she could admit to herself that she wanted more with him. Admitting it to herself was way easier than admitting it to others. But Bass just saw her as Miles's niece, and that night, a mistake.

She was afraid he would stay, but he would only stay for the child. It would be painful to play their parts as mother and father while she watched him with other women. The only thing worse than that would be if he stayed for _them_ , only to leave her like everyone else. She wasn't sure how many more she could handle losing.

"Charlie?"

Charlie blinked, pulled out of her thoughts, and focused on her grandfather's blue eyes.

"Did you hear a word I just said?"

She shook her head with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Grandpa, I just zoned out for a minute."

They were doing yet another weekly checkup. Gene had stuck to his rules, stubbornly ignoring Charlie's protests to ensure that his granddaughter and great-grandbaby were doing okay. Every checkup had ended with Gene announcing that both of them were doing wonderfully, and send them on their way. This time, however, Gene noticed something.

"I think you might be carrying twins."

Charlie looked at him in shock. "What?"

Gene held up his hands in a surrendering pose. "I could be wrong, and there could just be one, huge baby in there, but you're much bigger than usual at this stage. It's a possibility, but I can't be sure without ultrasounds."

She stared at him blankly, mouth hanging slightly open, before finally asking, "What's an ultrasound?"

Gene rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly feeling very tired. "It's not important." He dropped his hand and looked at her, their eyes locking. "Charlie, you need to take _extremely_ good care of yourself, just in case you are having twins. That means more fluids, and more rest. No more leaving the house."

Charlie groaned. "I already pee pretty much every hour," she griped, but they both knew she would do it.

As Gene left, Charlie sat in her chair and moved her hand in soft circles over her belly. She felt a cold wave of fear as she realized that she now had not one, but two more people to lose.

…

Bass woke up in the dark to a pounding head and the smell of animals.

"Morning, sunshine."

Bass looked up to see Miles sitting across from him, a few feet away, with his hands and feet bound tightly.

"Wha-" he groaned, jerking only to find himself in a similar situation.

Slowly coming to his senses, Bass took in his surroundings. He and Miles were in a wire cage, in what looked to be a barn. The ropes that bound their hands and feet were connected to the cages, making it impossible for them to move around.

And, far too close for their liking, the screaming began.

…

 **AN** Phew, I hope it was worth the wait! Please leave a review, and I hope to have another update ready by the end of the week :)


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